


The Curse of Music

by BearstarSeraph



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:22:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearstarSeraph/pseuds/BearstarSeraph
Summary: After the latest gravity machine fire, Vegeta is forced to participate in the Briefs' domestic life, but the symptoms of a brain abnormality he was born with normally kept in check by constant battle is making things difficult. With the pressures of high society and politics mounting on the Briefs, Vegeta can't understand why Bulma has become even more obsessed with him after recognizing such a shameful diagnosis.Sexy? There's nothing sexy about what's between my ears, you vulgar woman!





	1. Ivory Towers

**Chapter 1: Ivory Towers**

 

Vegeta slinked quietly through the hallways. Although he could feel Bulma’s energy on the other side of the compound working on upgrading the gravity machine, that vulgar woman had some six sense about him even though she adamantly denied being able to sense energy or having security cameras trained on him.

Finally, he spotted the door he’s searching for.

*Tweet. Tweet. Tweet. Chirp. Chirp. Tweet*

“Awe. Well, aren’t my little love birds talkative today.” 

Vegeta paused briefly as he listened to what was happening in the room. He then took a deep breath and knocked.

The birds stopped making noise.

“Oh? Come in.”

Vegeta stepped into the room.

“Oh? Vegeta, what are you doing here? Did you need something?” Mrs. Brief asked as she put the water can down.

Vegeta crossed his arms. “There is a console I can’t deduce the operation for. And since your daughter’s ultimatum, I’d thought I’d ask first.”

Mrs. Brief put he hand to her mouth and giggled. “Personally, I thought you accidentally reprogramming the robot servants was rather funny.” She lowered her hand, “Life here has become far from boring since you came. So show me what you need.”

Vegeta turned and led her a short distance through the house.

They rounded a corner. Vegeta pointed, “This thing jammed against the wall.”

“Oh, that just our antique upright piano. It’s not a computer or anything like that.”

“What was this ancient artifact’s purpose then?”

“It’s a musical instrument,” she said walking over.

Vegeta watched her pull out the seat and lift a cover revealing a row of dozens of white and black buttons. She spread her fingers over the buttons and began pressing a sequence. It sounded horribly sour. His left hand twitches.

“Oh, dear,” she said repressing the keys, “Looks like the strings need tightened. I’ll need to make an appointment to get it tuned.”

“Your husband or daughter can’t do it themselves?”

“Unfortunately, no. Oh! let me show you,” she said quickly standing up. She climbed up onto the seat and grabbed some of the objects on top. She held one to Vegeta, “Vegeta can you help me with these knick-knacks?”

Vegeta took them and placed them on the floor. He was then given the decorative cloth with the holes deliberately woven into the pattern and gently folded it before placing next to the small statuettes depicting these knick-knack creatures. Even if the meaning of the pattern escaped him, he had been on Earth long enough to recognize something of emotional importance when he saw it.

“Here we go,” Mrs. Brief said opening another covering. “Come up here, Vegeta.”

Vegeta floated up and looked inside. “That’s a lot of wires for something not a machine.”

“There’s one string per note,” Mrs. Brief said slipping her foot out of her shoe. She gently tapped the keys with her toes.

Vegeta saw three levers strike three wires resulting in the sounds he heard before.

“Pressing a key causes the hammer to hit its string making the note. There’s one string per key.”

“In “key” you’re referring to the black and white buttons, correct?”

“Yes. Are you done looking, Vegeta?”

Vegeta floated down.

“Can you hand me the crochet and the knick-knacks?”

Vegeta assumed she meant the cloth and handed it to her, “I trust you have the foresight to not mention this to Bulma.”

She looked down, “Oh? Why?”

“Because she’ll never let me hear the end of it!”

Vegeta brow dropped seeing her standard clueless expression.

“Oh!” she giggled, “You don’t want Bulma to know you’re actually a nice man. Your secrets safe with me, Sweetie.” She winked.

“For your sake, I hope so.”

~~***~~

Mrs. Brief was back in the sun room drinking tea at the table, when her husband came in.

“Hello, Darling.”

Mrs. Brief looked at the clock, “Wow. You’re back early.” Then she saw his face. “Oh, dear. Did the stock meeting not go well?”

He sat down across from her as she poured him a cup.

“Try explaining the sudden spike in expenses without revealing your secretly funding your daughter’s private army full of the aliens that have previously attacked Earth.”

“Thank you,” he said taking a sip. “That explosion Vegeta caused definitely didn’t help. People are thinking were developing something big. I’ll need to talk with Bulma about what we can release.”

He put the cup down, “I was thinking of using the controversy over the retirement of the International Space Station as cover for revealing the spaceship outer armor and a scaled down gravity machine to the public. Those should be safe enough without the government getting suspicious about under-the-table dealings with extraterrestrials.” 

He took another sip, “So what new radio station are you listening to? I’ve never heard this song before.”

“I’m not listening to the radio,” Mrs. Brief said, “I thought it was coming from the other room?”

“You’re the only person on this side of the house, Dear. I looked.” Dr. Brief lit a cigarette and took a puff, “But wherever the music is coming from, I must say this performer is one damn good pianist.”

Mrs. Brief blinked. “Piano… I wonder…”

She stood and walked to the door.

“Darling, wait a minute,” he said following her out the door.

The two walked down the hall.

“Wait, you don’t think someone is playing that old piano? It’s sat untuned for years.”

“Shh,” Mrs. Brief waved him quiet. She peeked around the corner.

Dr. Brief saw her put her hand to her mouth. Then she motioned him to look.

He peeked around the corner. His jaw dropped.

“Vegeta is playing the piano…” he thought. “How? When was it even tuned?”

Suddenly he smelled a strong whiff of smoke.

His cigarette had caused the polyester carpet to catch fire.

Vegeta played a sour cord hearing Mrs. Brief’s scream and turned around. He saw Dr. Brief trying and failing to stomp out a growing fire on the carpet. He spotted the tall potted plant behind Dr. Brief and moved faster than the humans could see and pulled the plant out of its pot and dumped the dirt to smother the fire.

After the two men finish compacting the dirt into the carpet, Vegeta glared at the two.

“How long have you two been spying on me?!” Vegeta shouted coming nose to nose with the aging scientist. He did not back up in fear to Vegeta’s frustration.

“We only just got here,” he answered.

Mrs. Brief brought her touching hands to her right cheek as she tilted her head, “Vegeta, that was fast thinking for putting out the fire. Thank you. And you managed to tune the piano! I thought you never saw one before?”

“I haven’t,” Vegeta said turning his angry gaze to her, “But it wasn’t that hard to figure out. One button equals one note in a progressive motion upwards. It wasn’t hard deducing the intervals from the wire and button lengths.”

“I see,” Mrs. Brief tilted her head the opposite direction, “I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. You are a prince after all.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Vegeta asked turning his body to face her.

Mrs. Brief lowered her hands, “Oh? Do Saiyans not train their children with music?”

Vegeta tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Why would we waste our time with that?” he scoffed.

“Well,” Dr. Brief began, “In humans, the parts of the brain that process music heavily overlay important regions like math and motor skills. It’s used to boost the wiring in young brains in those regions before future training in those subjects.”

Mrs. Brief looked to her husband and nodded. “Umm-hmm, I remember being pregnant with Bulma and putting headphones on my stomach so she could listen to Mozart while she was still growing.”

Vegeta’s eye twitches. _“Why is something named for the head placed on the digestive track to stimulate fetal development? This planet makes no damn sense!!!” he thinks._

“Tsk. Whatever.” Vegeta unfolded his arms and forced his way through the couple. “Don’t tell ANYONE what you just saw, or else.” He walked off.

 Dr. Brief sighed, “Well, we better save the poor plant and call to get the carpet replaced.”

Mrs. Brief took the plant and placed it back into the empty pot, “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll get you all better in the sunroom.”

The two walked off in separate directions.


	2. Respect

**Chapter 2: Respect**

_“And do you remember what happened next, Vegeta?”_

_“The White Goddess hid her message as a silver hair of moonlight and tied it to the smallest bird on the full moon to hide it from the Guardian’s eyes. When the smallest bird landed on the window of the prince, it turned back into energy and sang love songs to him. Then he hid his message as a black tread of night to hide in the bird’s shadow as he flew up to heaven before dawn.”_

_“Yes, that’s right. You know if you keep this up you will be telling me bedtime stories instead.”_

_“But only the secret ones right, Mama?”_

_“Yes, always remember these are only between you and me.”_

_“Mama, I figured out how the Goddess talked with the prince.”_

_*Giggles* “Oh really? Then tell me.”_

_“Like this, Mama!”_

_(Iiiii eeLoeeeVa uOeee)_

_“How Long Have You Done This?! Has Anyone Else Seen You?! DOES YOUR FATHER KNOW?!!!”_

_“Mama! You’re hurting my arm! Mama! MAMA!!!”_

~~***~~

Vegeta gasped awake.

He sat up moaning, his left hand on his temple. He grunts putting it in his lap. “Fucking nightmares. That’s what I get for messing with that instrument. What was I thinking…”

Vegeta then noticed a line of light across his bed. He followed the line to the window were the curtains were cracked open. He got out of bed and headed to the window. He pulled them back and saw the full moon proud in the sky. The skin on his lower back started to crawl.

“Goddess, no wonder I’m hallucinating.” He closes his eyes and sneers, “Hmph... The Goddess…” He looks back at the moon and gripped the curtains, “Leave me alone, you lifeless rock! I’ve destroyed thousands of rocks with more meaning than you!”

Vegeta slammed the curtains shut, but they again cracked open letting in the beam of moonlight. After several cycles of Vegeta cursing and the curtains drifting apart again, he accidently pulled the curtain rod out of the wall.

“Fucking damn it!” Vegeta glared at the broken curtains in his fists then turned it to the moon. “Fine! Be that way! I’ll go sleep in a room where you can’t get to me!”

He grabbed his pillow, blanket and a pair of shorts, then slammed the door as he left.

Vegeta closed his eyes and took a deep breath letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. After several moments, he opened them and looked around the hallway.

_“The entertainment room should be my best bet, with that soft furniture and no foreign light sources.”_ Vegeta kicked himself, _“Soft furniture, damn this planet! I’ll sleep on the fucking floor! The kitchen should be bitter cold tile.”_

Vegeta dropped his pillow and blanket at the door and walked off.

~~***~~

Vegeta passed the sunroom, rounded the corner heading to the kitchen. He suddenly stopped just past the piano after noticing the light was on in the kitchen. Moments later he also noticed the sparkle of broken glass on the floor and a wet stain on the wall.

“Fucking retarded fuckers! No one does this to Fucking Bulma Brief!”

A glass bottle flew into the hallway, smashed into the wall, and added to the pile. Vegeta now smelled the fresh sent of alcohol from the glass shards.

_“Shit…”_ Vegeta thought, _“Guess it’s the media room after all…”_   

Vegeta turned around but tripped into the piano. His right arm fell on the exposed keys before the fallboard landed on his hand.

“Who’s there?!”

Hearing Bulma loudly knock things over trying to escape the kitchen, Vegeta quickly pulled his hand out and vanished.

~~***~~

Vegeta put his left hand over his eyes as he flipped on the light in the media room. He quickly grabbed the adjoining knob and dimmed the lights to almost nothing. He walked down the short ramp to the oversized sectional and stretched out on the black leather covering himself with the throw blanket and quickly zoned out.

For about five minutes.

Vegeta heard the door open and the dimmed lights began blinking on and off several times before someone turned the knock up.

“Who’s in here?” Bulma asked leaning against the curtained walls walking down the ramp.

Vegeta put his hands over either side of his face. _“Why won’t the women in my life let me SLEEP?!”_

“Vegeta? What you doing here?”

He put his hands across his chest, “I was trying to sleep…” _“Oh, Goddess don’t sit — too late…”_

Bulma sat down near Vegeta’s head. He sat up and swung his feet on the floor.

“What’s wrong with your bed?” she asked.

“Nothing, it’s the curtains. They’re not blocking out the full moon light.”

Bulma twisted her head diagonally, “But you don’t have a tail?”

“If I still had my tail, you wouldn’t have a house. But that doesn’t mean the moonlight doesn’t have other effects. If I had my choice, I’d be asleep right now instead of talking to you.”

“Hey! Don’t you know who I am?!” Bulma tried to stand but quickly fell forward. Vegeta grabbed her before she smashed through the glass coffee table and sat her back down.

He folded his arms glaring down at her, “You’re Fucking Bulma Brief. I think everyone on the damn planet heard you barking like a rabid hound earlier.”

Bulma’s head wobbled slightly. Then she leaned forward and puked.

Vegeta launched into the air to save his feet. “Did you just try to vomit on me?!” he said hovering over the table.

Bulma answered by puking again.

Vegeta landed on the opposite side of the table. He ran his right hand down his face in disbelief at the situation.

“You’re lucky I need you alive, woman,” Vegeta muttered as he moved the glass table against the wall. He also moved the side tables and anything else he thought could injure her in this state.

“You sit right there until I get back,” he ordered before walking out of the room.

Vegeta shut the door behind him. He growled a sigh before shutting his eyes and concentrating.

_“There they are,”_ he thought opening them, looking up and to the left at the ceiling. _“Time to find some bloody stairs.”_

~~***~~

Vegeta walked through hallways he had never been in before, keeping a bead on the two energies he needed. 

“This better be the right door,” he said under his breath. He tapped the door a few times testing its strength before bagging on it loudly. “Dr. Brief!”

The loud bagging stirred Mrs. Brief first.

**_*Doctor! Misses! Your daughter requires medical assistance!*_ **

_“Doghter… Doghter assistance…”_ her sleeping brain garbled together. _“Doghter assistance… Doghter… Doctor assistance… Doctor…Doghter assistance… Doctor… Dogther assist… Dogther… Doter? Dao-er? Dao-ter? Doctor… Dao-ter assistance… Doctor… daughter assistance… Daughter… Doctor assistance… Daughter… DAUGHTER?!”_

Mrs. Brief snapped awake.

**_*Doctor!_ ** **_Mrs. Brief! Wake up, damn you!*_ **

“Sweetie! Sweetie, wake up!” Mrs. Brief shook her husband.

“Mmmwha…?” he moaned.

“Bulma needs help. Wake up,” she said rolling out of bed. She put her slippers on and grabbed her house robe.

  ** _*Doctor! …*_**

She opened the door.

“It’s about damn time…” Vegeta glared at her.

“What’s wrong with Bulma?”

Vegeta pointed down the hall. “Your daughter is a violent drunk who could have toppled over and bled out on all the shit she’s smashed by now because you took your damn time!”

Mrs. Brief blinked, then put her right hand to her cheek. “Oh! She’s drunk and you don’t know how to handle her. I was worried for a moment.”

Vegeta’s arm and face dropped, “This is a frequent occurrence… ?”

~~***~~

“Watch the broken glass,” Vegeta warned sidestepping the pile.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Brief said as the couple looked in the kitchen.

“Good God…” Dr. Brief turned to Vegeta, “What did you do to piss her off?”

“I had nothing to do with this, Old Man!”

“Now. Now. No fighting,” Mrs. Brief intervened, “Let’s just get Bulma taken care of and we can all get back to sleep.”

_“I haven’t even slept yet…”_ Vegeta thought.

They came to the proper hallway. The door is opened.

“Oh crap…” Vegeta ran over, put his hands on the door frame, and stuck his head in. “And she’s gone…” Vegeta stepped away from the door, “Shit.”

“We’ll,” Dr. Brief yawned pointing down the hall, “I say we follow the fallen pictures.”

“…Vegeta you piece of shit…” Bulma’s voice came from the distance.

Dr. Brief looked at Vegeta. “I thought you said this wasn’t your fault?”

“Boys! No fighting. Come on,” Mrs. Brief walked ahead.

~~***~~

They found Bulma in the guestrooms hallway. Three doors were opened, with Bulma beating and kicking on a fourth.

“Vegeta!” She slammed her shoulder into the door. “I know you’re in this one! You can’t hide from me! No one tells me what to do! No One! Not You! Not the Social Committee! No One!”

“Bulma! Sweetie!” Mrs. Brief ran forward, “You’re hurting yourself!”

“Momma?” Bulma turned as Mrs. Brief grabbed her.

“Come on, Sweetie. Why don’t we get you to bed. You’re not doing any good here.”

“Momma? Why are… YOU!”

_“Shit…”_ he thinks.

“You!” Bulma stormed over and attempted to poke him in the chest, but only ended up simply punching him repeatedly over his heart.

“No one tells me to just to sit still and look pretty! I am Fucking Bulma Brief! I’m the most powerful bitch on this God damn planet! NO ONE TELLS ME WHAT TO DO!”

Vegeta blushed bright red and formed his fists at his sides, “I never called you pretty, Woman!” Vegeta then jumped backwards as Bulma barfed. “What is with your obsession with vomiting on me?!”

“Now, Bulma,” Dr. Brief walked forward and rubbed her back as she was bent over still spitting up, “We all know how frustrating Vegeta can be…”

Vegeta’s face twisted. _“I didn’t even do anything!”_

“Shhh.” Mrs. Brief put her right arm across him and placed her hand on his left arm. “Getting her to bed is the important thing now,” she whispered almost reading his thoughts.

“But right now, it’s close to 2 a.m. And the sooner you get to bed, the better your hangover will be. So, let’s get to sleep and sort this whole thing out in the morning.”

Bulma nodded and her father put her arm over his neck and began to walk her off. Mrs. Brief nodded to Vegeta, then put her index finger to her mouth. She turned and caught up with her family, taking the opposite side to her husband.

Vegeta silently rubbed his eyes waiting until they were far ahead to follow. He casually glanced at the door. It had a dent with a deep crack in it at shoulder height. Vegeta then inspected the others. All had broken knobs and jams. He finished breaking off the last few fibers of one chuck of wood with the warped metal plate still affixed by screws.

_“That slender woman broke through three doors and damaged another?”_ He looked at the doors and frames. _“I know these are laughably frail, but they must be more than adequate for her species. These are doors after all…”_

A whiff of admiration poked holes through his frustration thinking of this and her punching him repeatedly earlier.

“Hmph. Nonsense,” he dropped the piece of doorframe and followed.

~~***~~

Mrs. Brief lifts the toilet seat and helps Bulma onto the floor. Her husband stands in the bathroom door and Vegeta behind him mouth slightly ajar looking at the filth the woman lived in.

She filled a cup with water and hands it to her, “Now Sweetie. You drink lots of water and try and hit the toilet, ok?”

Bulma nods while swallowing. She then hands the cup back and her mother refills it again and leaves it on the edge of the counter. Mrs. Brief then leans over, kisses her daughter’s head, then exits the room gently leaving the door slightly open to give her privacy.

Her parents then exited the room, to Vegeta’s surprise.

“You’re really trusting her to be alone?” he asked once the door closed.

Dr. Brief yawned, “She’ll be fine.”

Vegeta pointed towards the wall at the bathroom. “Excuse me for not trusting that woman not to drown in the feces receptacle after everything I just went through!” he said as loud as he dared.

“Vegeta,” Mrs. Brief started, “I understand you care about —”

“All I care about is the gravity machine being fixed,” Vegeta said crossing his arms.

“Then why are you blushing?” Mrs. Brief singsonged.

“Don’t provoke him,” Dr. Brief scolded.

“Oh, fine,” she sighed. “But Vegeta, as long as you stay quiet you can stay. Just behave yourself, ok?” She winked.

Vegeta didn’t know what she meant as she said it, but then she gave the same undeniable wink as her daughter.

“I AM NOT A RAPIST!” Vegeta howled as his energy exploded out around him.

Pictures ripped of the walls and Mrs. Brief’s robe and night gown rippled violently as she put her hand up to shield her face. Her husband grabbed and shielded her.

“I have done more than enough to earn an eternity burning in Hell, but Rape is not one of them!”

Vegeta stalked forward, “Killing is completely natural, predator and prey. Rape is a perversion to all life!”

The door knob turned. “Mom, what was that?”

Vegeta vanished.

“That sounded like Veg—” Bulma opened the door and saw her parents in each other’s arms with ruffled hair, clothes and her father with slightly crooked glasses. The picture directly behind them was also fallen off the hook and leaning against the wall.

Bulma blinked a few times. “Never mind…” she shut the door.

“Wait. Let me help you…” Mrs. Brief opened the door and went inside closing it behind her.

“That was close…”

Dr. Brief looked up and saw Vegeta flat against the ceiling. He hopped down, then looked himself over. “It’s terrifying that the ceiling in the hallways are cleaner that the sleeping quarters your daughter utilizes.”

He looks up at the doctor. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dr. Brief walked up to him and extended his hand.

Vegeta looked down at it, then back up at his face. “What are you doing?”

“Offering to shake hands, Vegeta. It is a sign of respect on Earth.”

Vegeta crosses his arms. “And what brings this about?”

“I don’t know how things are out there in space, but on Earth a man who would consider taking advantage of a woman as drunk as my daughter is right now a rape is rarer than a blue moon.”

“And?” he asked annoyed.

“I’m trying to say I trust you with my daughter, Vegeta.”

“I could still kill her, you know.”

Dr. Brief smiled to his surprise, “I thought you wanted the gravity machine fixed?”

Vegeta shook his head, but the door opened before he could open his mouth.

“Sweetie,” Mrs. Brief pokes her head out, “Bulma’s gone into the crying phase. I think I’ll be sleeping here tonight.”

Vegeta turned to her, “So she’s deteriorating like I said she would?”

“Yes, Vegeta. You were right.” She turned to her husband and moved her hand in a dismissive fashion, “Now you go to bed, Sweetie. Vegeta, I want to talk to you for a second.”

“All right,” Dr. Brief yawned, then pecked her on the cheek, “Good Night, Dear.” He turned and walked away, “Good Night, Vegeta.”

Mrs. Brief exited about half her body out the door to talk.

“If this is about showing respect, your husband already did. There is no need to ‘shake hands’ again.”

“I see,” she smiles, “Good for him. But thank you, Vegeta, for being a decent man if not a good one.”

“Before you go,” Vegeta stops her from reentering. “What is a ‘blue moon’?”

“Oh? Did he use that to describe you?”

“Yes. He said, I was ‘rarer than a blue moon’.”

“Well, normally there are only 12 full moons in one year. But, sometimes, I’m not sure why, a 13th sneaks in. That is called a ‘blue moon’.”

“Isn’t the number 13 considered unlucky on this planet?”

“Usually, but a blue moon is actually lucky. There’s one in the next couple days, in fact.”

Vegeta ignored the phantom pain that suddenly shot up his back. “I see. Good Night, Mrs. Brief.”

“Good Night, Vegeta.” She slipped in the room and shut the door.

Vegeta turned around, then stopped suddenly and put his right hand over his face growling. _“Goddess damn it! I still need to find a place to sleep…_ ”

 


	3. Flying High

**Chapter 3: Flying High**

_“Mama! Mama!”_

_“I’m busy with the birds, Vegeta. Go ask a servant.”_

_“But Mama! Those birds are fighting!”_

_“What?! Show me.”_

_“Awe… They stopped. That was funny… Mama, why is that bird letting the other one stand on its back when they were all fighting before?”_

_“Vegeta, were the birds all singing and dancing before until the one on the bottom drove them off?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“The one on the bottom is a female, she has chosen her mate and now he stands on top to help her make special eggs that will turn into baby birds. A few weeks from now there will be a new nest.”_

_*Pouts* “Awe… But babies are noisy and they poop too much. They’re only funny when they fall out!”_

_Suddenly another male bird attacks the bird on top from behind, ripping him off and killing him with a quick cut of the beak. Then he tries to mount the screaming female. Then the room explodes in screeches. His mother ducks as the flock rushes forward while he jumps up and down excited. They rip the second male to shreds until it was nothing but blood and feathers. Then they begin flying away._

_*jumping and clapping* “That was awesome!”._

_“By the Goddess,” his mother says standing, “What a stupid male. But even her beloveds have free will I suppose. Poor girl, you want to come here, sweetie?”_

_The bird hops into her arms and starts to softly coos._

_“Momma? What’s wrong with the bird? It sounds hurt but I don’t see any injuries.”_

_“Vegeta, tell me. Why was that bird ripped apart?”_

_“Because it killed the other bird.”_

_“Vegeta, you’ve seen other fights that lead to deaths. Yet the flocks have never responded like that before. So, what was different this time?”_

_*Thinks a bit* “Was he really well liked? Father calls it ‘Avenging’.” *chuckles* “It’s a great way to have fun out on missions. He showed me while we were out last week.”_

_“No. That was not it. Remember, these are the descendants of the birds who belong to the Goddess. And what does she value above all else?”_

_*Thinks longer* “Her lover?”_

_“Good. As sad as this is to lose another bird, you can’t learn anything unless there is blood involved sometimes, so maybe it’s the moonlight’s will after all. Vegeta, this is again a secret of the Goddess. The male can display all he wants, but in the end, it is the female who chooses. No matter what your father and Goddess save us General Nappa may teach you in the future, it is the will of the Goddess that the female chooses her mate, whether it’s birds or people. Now. I want you to comfort this poor bird until she sings happily again.”_

_~~***~~_

 

_*Tweet Tweet Chirp Tweet Chirp*_

Vegeta opened his left eye and saw two yellow birds on his nightstand. He lifted his head off the pillow and opened the other as well. “What are you two doing here?”

“Get back here you little twerps.”

He saw Dr. Brief run past the broken door holding a large net as three other birds fly around just out of his reach. The birds turned around and flew back past the door again. Dr. Brief stopped and bent over putting his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.

He glanced in the room. “Oh… Vegeta… You’re a la…late riser this… morning.”

The birds leave the nightstand and fly onto the curtain rod.

“Oh, perfect… there’s more in here…” he said standing straight and walking in. “Wait, why is there a different… color curtain draped over the… middle of the rod?” He turned to Vegeta, “This isn’t even your room now is it?”

“My adventurous late night,” Vegeta said sitting up and lowering his feet to the floor. “So, what’s this latest fiasco?”

“Well, I thought I’d be nice… and feed the birds this morning… but Scratch jumped off my shoulder into the large cage and spooked a bunch of them. I’ve been trying to catch them ever since.”

“Didn’t you program the servants to help?”

Dr. Brief began catching his breath, “Last time some birds got loose, the robots were too harsh and killed most of them.” He turned around, “I’ll let you get dressed and do whatever you do.”

Vegeta’s eyebrow went up, “Not going to ask me for help?”

Dr. Brief turned around, “Would you?”

Vegeta smirked. “The possibility of me saying no has never stopped you from asking before.”

“You think this is funny, don’t you?”

Vegeta chuckled, “I think it’s fucking hilarious.”

“I didn’t ask because you would only end up hurting the birds as badly as the robots would.”

Vegeta’s face hardened. “My mother was a bird breeder. I can obviously do a much better job than your feeble attempts at aviculture,” he snared. Vegeta stood and held out his hand, “Give me that damn net.”

~~***~~

“Stop squirming,” Vegeta said trying to get the small bird untangled from the net. “There, we go.” He held the bird pinning the wings to the body and opened the small door to the large enclosure. He put his hand in and released it. It flew onto a stick where a friend joined it and they started singing and jumping excitedly.

“And that’s 14,” Dr. Brief said. “Should be the last one.”

“Good,” Vegeta said going to the sink along the wall to wash his hands.

“Hard to believe you’ve surprised me twice in one day. You did fast work with the net. I didn’t even know you could twist it like that to trap the birds without hurting them.”

“My mother made me practice extensively after she realized she gave birth to a demon.”

Dr. Brief’s shoulders dropped. “You used to let them out, didn’t you?”

Vegeta smirked glancing over his shoulder, “Did you expect any less of me?”

“If this conversation had happened yesterday, I would have assumed you killed them for sport.”

Vegeta paused his hand right before grabbing the faucet knob. He briefly clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white before relaxing and turning off the water.

Dr. Brief did not notice having turned around to face the cat sitting on the table casually licking its front paw and swiping its face. “Now Scratch, that was every bad of you chasing the birds this morning. Daddy is very mad at you.”

The black cat placed it’s paw down and meowed.

“Don’t play cute. That’s not getting you out of this this time.”

It meowed again.

“Say sorry like you mean it.”

It meowed a third time.

Vegeta shook his head watching this as he dried his hands. He tossed the disposable plant fiber drying cloths in the trash.

Suddenly Mrs. Brief came into the room. She was still in her night dress and robe. “Oh! Here you are, and Vegeta too. Thank goodness. Bulma hurt herself bad last night. I had the servants take her to the med bay.”

~~***~~

Vegeta looked at the scene disinterested leaning against the wall. Bulma was on a high bench with her arm in a sling and her feet bandaged. Her mother and father were at her side as the doctor in white looked over a clipboard.

“Seems you had an exciting night, Ms. Brief,” he said looking up from his notes. “Dislocated shoulder, broken toes on both feet, and otherwise bruised everything on your right side.”

Bulma moaned rubbing her head with her left hand.

“And of course, the side effects of dehydration from over consumption of alcohol.” The doctor placed the clip board on the counter. “Bed rest for a week while your feet heal, then short walking trips using the braces. No using your arm for a month. But if you ask your alien friends to intervene, I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine in less than an hour.”

Vegeta noticed the mild flippancy in his last sentence. “I’m in the room you know.”

 “All the more reason it will take less than an hour. I will go get the wheelchair ready” The doctor left the room.

“Awe, my poor Sweetie. I’ll go call Chichi and see if Goku can do something.” Mrs. Brief hurried from the room.

“Am I needed anymore? Or are there more people who want to patronize me?” Vegeta said.

“No, I can get the robots to push the wheelchair.” Dr. Brief nodded, “But thank you for coming down.”

“Whatever,” Vegeta left the room.

Bulma moaned. “Why was Vegeta here anyway?”

“He’s the one who found you last night and woke us up.”

“Vegeta did?”

He nodded, “He was a big help last night. He knew something was wrong and didn’t leave us alone until your mother agreed to stay up with you. You need to thank him next you see him.”

“He’ll just yell at me for slowing down work on repairing the ship,” she rubbed her head again.

“Probably, but that boy has good instincts. He’s definitely not the dumb brute I thought he was coming into this house. After last night, I trust him.”

Bulma’s eyes widened, “What? You? Really?”

He nodded. “And unlike you, I don’t have a crush to cloud my judgment. Whatever happens between you kids will happen. I won’t intervene.”

Bulma grabbed her head in pain unable to think.

The doctor returned pushing the wheelchair with two male nurses. “All right Ms. Brief, you’re all cleared to leave.”

The two men gently lifted her up and helped her into the chair. Then one began pushing her out as Dr. Brief fell in alongside.

“So Bulma, what do you want to do first after the robot gets here?” Dr. Brief asked.

“Coffee…”

 

~~***~~

 “Here you go, Sweetie,” Dr. Brief said handing her a cup at the kitchen table. “I’ll go start some toast to get something gentle in your stomach.”

Mrs. Brief stepped past the vacuum bots in the hallway and entered the kitchen.

“I knew I would find you here,” she said sitting down next to her daughter. “Chichi said Goku, Gohan, and Piccolo had already left and won’t return to from the woods until dinner time. She said I could try calling Krillin since it was an emergency. When I called, he said he’d fly over to Master Korin’s right away to see what he could do.”

“Darling, since I’m up, do you want me to start the teapot going?”

Mrs. Brief turned to him and clapped her hands together. “Yes, thank you. I married such a good husband.”

She put her hands back down in her lap and returned to Bulma. “You know, Vegeta was very protective of you last night.”

“Mom, just because Vegeta woke you up doesn’t mean he’s secretly in love with me.”

“Oh, I don’t think he is in love with you either. But I think the woman he does marry will be a very lucky girl.”

“Here’s you toast,” Dr. Brief slid the plate to her as he sat down with his own cup of coffee. “I wouldn’t go that far. But at least we know he believes in respectfully treating a woman that’s intoxicated.”

“You’re the one who said he was ‘rarer than the blue moon’.”

“Ah… He asked you what that meant?”

“Hmhmm,” she nodded.

Bulma tried again to process this new information only to once again instantly hit a brick wall.

“Will you two stop talking,” she moaned.

Mrs. Brief gasped. “Oh dear. I need to feed the birds,” she said standing up.

“Vegeta and I already took care of the birds.”

“Oh, is that what you two were doing in the sunroom?”

Dr. Brief nodded, “He said his mother raised birds. He was a big help… When he wasn’t laughing like a maniac.”

“Why would he…” Mrs. Brief put her hands on her hips, “Wait, did you let Scratch get in the cage again?”

“Don’t worry, all 20 of your birds are accounted for.”

“I own 23.”

Dr. Brief took a long sip of his coffee.

~~***~~

Krillin landed on the porch with a small bag in hand. He quickly entered the doors into one of the living rooms and stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him is Vegeta doing push-ups on his right thumb… with Dr. Brief’s cat purring loudly on his back.

“I wouldn’t put your jaw on the floor like that. It is rather unsanitary.”

Krillin shut his mouth. “Umm, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing push-ups. What does it look like?”

“And…” Krillin points at the cat.

“This creature has decided to offer its meager weight to my quest to become Super Saiyan. Its growling also intensifies if I do not meet its expectations for speed.”

“Ah… So why are you not in the ship?”

Vegeta turned his head and glared at him. “Because that damn machine buckled and caught fire only after a week at 400 times this planet’s insignificant gravity!” he barked. “And that woman goes and seriously injures herself in a drunken rage, delaying the repairs even further!”

“Well, I’m here to deliver a senzu I managed to…”

“Then why are you wasting time talking to me! Get going!”

Krillin jumps back putting his hands up, “Ok! Ok! Do you know where she is?”

“Go follow her damn ki! You’ve known her longer than I have and even I can find her easily!”

“All right! I’m going,” Krillin ran out of the room.

He leaned against the hallway wall and took a centering breath. _“Ok… where is she… Ah! There she is, upstairs. Her parents are with her too.”_ Krillin hurried off.

~~***~~

“And there you go, babies,” Mrs. Brief said placing two birds into the large cage. “Mommy is so happy you come when I call. Just need to find your sister and everyone will be together again.”

“Yes, I am perfectly aware of the meetings today,” Dr. Brief said into his newest experimental cell phone, now miniaturized to two inches thick thanks to the electronics from Raditz’s scouter. “And I’m telling you, my daughter injured herself and is having overly enthusiastic reaction to the pain —”

“Oh! What’s that Daddy? Let me take it apart!”

“Bulma! Sit back down! You can’t have my phone! Honey!”

“Sweetie get back in the wheelchair, we can get you stuff to take apart in a little bit.”

“No! I want it now!”

 “I need to call you back. Reschedule everything before 1 p.m.” Dr. Brief hung up the call and put the phone in his inside coat pocket.

The door opens, “I’m here.”

“Krillin! My little bald friend!”

“Sweetie! Please sit down!”

“Krillin! For the love of god get over here and give her the damn bean!” Dr. Brief said struggling to get her to sit.  

Krillin takes it out of the bag, “Ok. Here’s the senzu, Bulma.”

“No! I don’t wanna eat any beans! They make you fart!” Bulma continued to struggle.

“Just shove it down her throat already!”

“Ok!” Krillin gets on her lap and forces her into her chair.

“I said no!” Bulma shakes her head avoiding his hand.

Dr. Brief switches positions and grabs her head from behind. Krillin shoves it down her throat.

Bulma blinked several times as the senzu bean took effect. Then she rotated her previously bad shoulder.

“There,” Dr. Brief said. “Now let’s get your braces off.” He turned to Krillin, “Going to need you to leave the room. Need to take her shirt off to get at her shoulder brace.”

“Got ya. I’ll be in the living room then.” Krillin left the room and began heading down the hall.

“Yeah! I’m all better!” Bulma suddenly stood up knocking her father to the ground. She then overpowered her mother and ran from the room.

“Woohoo! I’m free!”

Krillin thought he heard shouting coming from the sunroom.

“Krillin! Krillin! Get Back here!”

He turned around and ran back.

He saw Mrs. Brief standing in the door. “What happened?”

“I don’t think what you gave her got rid of her pain meds. They went that way,” she pointed in the opposite direction.

Krillin ran off.

Coming to the intersection, he saw Dr. Brief leaning against the wall across from their private elevator. The lights said it was going down.

“Yeah, she’s loose. Get the security people to the private elevator exits in the offices and labs. Thanks Becky.” He hung up.

“I’m here,” Krillin ran up.

“Good,” he said, “I’m getting too old for this. The security can handle her. Help me back to the room.”

Krillin came over and Dr. Brief leaned on him. They made their way back down the hall. “How the hell did she run so fast with those walking boots on?” Dr. Brief panted.

After they left, a nearby door opened. Bulma peaked her head out. “Good. They’re gone,” she said. She sat down and took her boots and braces off leaving her in her bra and barefoot.

Then she pranced down the hall waving her arms up and down. “I’m free as a birdie. La La La La La.”

~~***~~

_*Chirp Chirp Tweet Tweet Tweet*_

“And where did you come?” Vegeta said to the bird sitting on top of Mrs. Brief’s grandfather’s giant time keeping piece.

“Woohoo! I’m flying.”

Vegeta turned and saw Bulma running down the hall with her arms extended out. And without a shirt on on top of that.

_“Oh, gods not again…”_

“Vegeta!”

The bird squeaked in fear and flew off.

“Hi there, handsome. What are you up to?” she said walking up to him. She leaned into him

Vegeta sighed, pushed her back, then took off his shirt.

“Oh! Jumping right to the chase. I like this side of you.”

“No, you won’t.”

~~***~~

Dr. Brief, his wife, and Krillin are sitting around the table in the sunroom. Dr. Brief is still catching his breath.

“Doctor! Mrs. Brief! Short bald man! I’ve captured the woman!”

“Was that Vegeta?” Krillin said.

“Oh, sounds like Vegeta caught Bulma again,” Mrs. Brief said standing. “You stay here, Darling. Krillin and I got this.”

The two exited the room, and Krillin couldn’t believe his eyes.

Vegeta was in his shorts carrying Bulma. His tank top was serving as a gag, his sweat pants were tied around Bulma’s middle pinning her arms, and a cord tying her feet together. Bulma was struggling hard, but he kept a good grip on her.

“Baldy, go find something to tie her down with. I’m not catching her again!”

Mrs. Brief turned to Krillin, “Head outside, there should be some rope or bungee cords in one of the tool sheds.

~~***~~

Bulma continued to struggle after being tied to a chair. Vegeta’s shirt was still wrapped around her mouth as a gag.

 “So what the hell is she on this time?!” Vegeta said retreading the rope into his sweat pants.

Krillin laughed nervously, “Hehehe. Seems the senzu bean didn’t do anything to the pain meds in her body.”

“Well just perfect,” Vegeta said slipping his pants back on. “So how many hours of this shit do I have to suffer though now?”

“Yes, cancel the alert. Bulma’s been captured. Tell the security teams thank you for this.” Dr. Brief pushed the button to hang up. “We’ll find out in a minute,” He dialed a new number and put it to his ear. “Hello, has the doctor left for lunch yet? ... … Good, can you get him for me? … … Yes, hello. The medicine brought healed her just fine but didn’t do anything about the pain meds in her system. She’s loopier than a rollercoaster. Can you pull some Narcan from one of the emergency kits? … … “What do you mean there’s no Narcan in the emergency kits?! That’s basic — Ok, ok… So how long until you can write a prescription and get it to a pharmacy? … …  … Ok. Call me when you find one with it in stock and send someone to pick it up. Thank you. Good bye.”

He hung up and sighed. “An hour at least probably, since it was the time it took for the meds…”

“Not my problem.” Vegeta began walking out the door, then stopped. “Oh, Mrs. Brief,” he looked back. “I found one of your birds out of his cage. It was on your grandfather’s clock before Bulma came charging in and spooked it.”

“Oh, you found my missing baby? Well, let’s go get her.” She walked up to him. “And thank you for helping catch the rest this morning.” She grabbed his arm and lead him out of the room. “Now let’s go get you a net…”

She led him out of sight.

“Ummmmm… What the hell have I missed?” Krillin asked.

~~***~~

Across the city, a local tabloid editor is having a meeting with a group of writers in their joint cubical office section. On the wall is a cork board with photos of Capsule Corp and many paper notes connected with string.

“I can’t believe your pulling the plug on this story!” the female reporter with red hair yelled. “We have real solid evidence the Briefs are dealing with aliens under the table and you’re throwing this away! This is the scandal of the century!”

“This isn’t like five years ago when we could print this stuff without worrying!” the editor said. “Last paper to write an alien story caused a riot and got people killed.

A man in a military uniform began walking up behind them.

“And with Joseph Raymond and his Committee of Unhuman Activities lording over everyone with the PEAI Act, I’m not risking this paper on an absurd story targeting one of the most powerful families on the planet.”

“Isn’t not reporting all suspicious activity to the planetary defense forces just as big a risk?”

The editor turned around and saw the military officer behind him.

“It’s a minimum mandatory sentence of seven years in prison last I checked.”

“General Cumberland?” the editor asked, “Why the hell is someone like you here?”

“I’m here because someone in this paper actually obeyed the law. It is also the reason this building is currently surrounded awaiting my orders.”

The editor shook so hard he fell to the floor.

“Now of course there are some optics the committee would be worried about; this cesspool is technically a news agency. Law enforcement will overlook the delay in reporting suspicious activity on account you wanted to make sure you had solid proof as a professional standard on the condition you hand over all information, including sources and witnesses to be subject to interview.”

“The fuck we are!” the reporter said. “This is a free press buddy! You can’t force anything! We have righ—”

General Cumberland pulled out a silenced pistol and shot the red-headed reporter three times in the abdomen. She went down. “Not in times of war,” he said. The general pulled out a radio. “Shots fired. Arrest everyone in the building and strip this place bare. Deadly force approved.” He lowered the radio.

“Oh god… this whole thing is real isn’t it? …That’s why you’re here in person,” the editor stuttered.

General Cumberland put the gun to the editor’s forehead, “No comment.”

~~***~~

 

Krillin and Vegeta were watching TV in the living room while eating food Mrs. Brief had cooked for them. Krillin had just finished his one bowl. Vegeta was finishing the last of his 10 bowls.

“Live news reports coming in from downtown as 14th tabloid has been raided by the extra-terrestrial task force following the murders of nine people in Pepper City two months ago. One person has reportedly shot in the raid, making it a total of three people shot during arrests under the Prevention and Elimination of Alien Interference Act since it’s signing into law last year...”

“Damn…” Krillin said, “People are going nuts.”

“What is a tabloid?”

“Hmm?” Krillin glanced at Vegeta and saw him looking at him. “Oh! Umm, it’s like a newspaper, except it specializes in rumors, gossip and a lot of made up crap.”

Vegeta looked back at the TV. “And this murder in Pepper City?”

“A tabloid accused a business of being spies for an alien invasion. Someone actually took it seriously and went in and shot the place up.”

“Even though it was published by disreputable news outlet?”

“Yep.”

“Every species has their idiots. It’s good your government is cracking down on these ‘tabloids’ if they are provoking violence like that.”

Krillin chuckled nervously. _“I don’t think that’s actually it,” he thought._

“Oh boys,” Mrs. Brief popped her head in the doorway, “The Narcan just arrived and Bulma has been given a small dose. Thank you for coming over Krillin. Bulma should be back to normal shortly. I’m sure you have plans for this afternoon.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me for anything else?”

“She’s out of the worse of it. Besides we have Vegeta here if something goes wrong.”

Krillin glanced at Vegeta.

Vegeta glared back while shoving more food in his mouth.

“Well, ok. If you don’t need me anymore. Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Brief,” Krillin nodded his head, then Mrs. Brief moved out of the way so he could exit.

After he left, Mrs. Brief came in and sat next to Vegeta.

“Vegeta, I wanted to say thank you for today. You helped us with Bulma twice and helped catch the birds as well when you didn’t have to.”

“I just have a low tolerance for incompetence and stupidity. Don’t get used to it.”

Mrs. Brief smiled, “Whatever you say.”

 


	4. Blackmail

**Chapter 4: Blackmail**

“It seems the Narcan is beginning to do its job,” the doctor said leaning up, “but it would be best to keep her here for observation for the next few hours.”

“Let me go you fucking asshole!” Bulma struggled against the straps holding her to the examining table.

“Yes, that is definitely the best option,” Dr. Brief said rotating his arm to look at his watch. “And it’s almost 1 o’clock. I have meetings to get to… I leave her in your capable hands.”

He left the room.

~~***~~

“Hello, Becky.”

“Hello Dr. Brief.” The woman said from behind the large three-sided desk. “How’s Ms. Brief?”

“Under observation. She should be all right by this evening.”

“That is good to hear,” she said.

“How’s your family doing?”

“We’re doing fine. The strike is hard but we’re managing.”

“Well remember if you need any extra help, you can apply for the special bonus like everyone else. So, who’s on the docket for today?”

“At 1:30 there is your meetings with the trade unions. This morning there was supposed to be a tele-meeting with the CEOs of the other companies affected by the strikes. They are not happy about being delayed until after the union meetings.”

Dr. Brief chuckled, “Not like I was ever going to agree to a united front against the strikers. Bounce 3 p.m. off of them and see if it sticks. What else is there today?”

“There is supposed to be the start of negotiations with the heads of Holstein Medical about the acquisition of Synthbiotics starting at 4:30. It was to be the last thing today before closing.”

“Dang, that’s right,” Dr. Brief said lowering his fist to his palm. “Hmmm… why don’t you float a rescheduling for Holstein? Blind buys have never sit well with me, even if the company looks good on paper. It would be nice to actually get the head of Synthbiotics in on these talks. What was his name…” he snaps his fingers a few times, “I know it was Greek…”

Becky sifts through the folder on the talks. “Says here his name is Dr. Gero.”

“Ah, yes that’s it. Dr. Gero…Eh? That sounds familiar… Oh, well no time for that. May I have the files for the meeting with the trade union reps to review?”

“Here you… Welcome, gentlemen.”

Dr. Brief turned around. He saw five older men and one young one about Bulma’s age.

“Ah, Mr. Crowling,” Dr. Brief walked over and shook the union’s district leader’s hand with both of his, “It’s good to see you. Too bad it needs to be under these circumstances.”

“If it was under any other circumstances, I’d be out of my job.”

Dr. Brief chuckled and released his hand, “True. All to true, unfortunately.” He began shaking the hands of the individual factory representatives down the line, “Mr. Thatcher. Mr. Kuznetsov, Mr. Wagner, Mr. Boyle, … and forgive me young man, you look familiar but your name escapes me at the moment. My apologies. You’re the one who does the press conferences up at the capital, correct?”

He nods, “Thomas Williams, advocate for worker’s rights.”

Dr. Brief shakes his hand and chuckles, “Youth today just can’t utter the word lobbyist, can they?”

He turns to Crowling, “Unfortunately this is one of those days were nothing goes to plan, I’m running about 20 minutes late. Can I have some tea or coffee brought to you in the meantime? What about some chocolate chip cookies? My wife made a big batch yesterday.”

“No thank you, Dr. Brief. But we would like to start as soon as possible,” Crowling said.

“I’ll keep this quick,” he said turning around, “Give me the folders, Becky. Hurry.”

She hands him the documents. “Here you go, sir.”

Dr. Brief nodded and walked as fast has his old frame can take him to his office. He shut the door.

“If you gentleman could sit down at the couches,” Becky gestured to one of the sitting areas, “he’ll be right with you.”

The men sit down.

“The secretary shouldn’t allow her boss to call her by her first name. It’s disrespectful,” Williams said.

“In my experience, the Briefs tend to be informal unless they strictly need to be,” Boyle said, “And Ms. Reed was his personal assistant for several years before I ever heard him say her given name. If she’s content with being on a first name basis at this point, then we should let it stand.”

“He normally doesn’t slip up like that in public settings like this,” Kuznetsov said, “He seems exhausted today.”

“We can use that as an advantage in today’s negotiations,” Williams said eagerly, “If we press—"

“Tom,” Boyle said, “the good doctor is from an old union family and he has never forgotten where he came from. He may be the richest S.O.B. on the planet right now, but when labor talks, he has always listened. He is the one ally we have here. So, save your cynicism for others. There are plenty of hungry lions in this den.” 

~~***~~

Dr. Brief was reading the thick file of paperwork as fast as he could.

_“Damn… I turn my back for one minute… I told that manager to work with the unions and not straight fire 300 people. What the hell are they teaching at business schools these days! When I say work with the union, I mean work with the union! No wonder we’re being picketed along with the other companies…”_ A thought flashed through his mind, _“This isn’t a reaction to the walk outs. This was preplanned. This is a modern-day breakup.”_

He took off his glasses and placed his hand over his eyes. _“But with how that stockholder meeting went, those wolves are just waiting for me to do something to take it away from me.”_ He lowered his hand and tapped it on the table, _“I’m going to need to get Bulma into the upper management sooner than I hoped. And she’s HAS to be an invalid right now.”_

He put his glasses back on and pushed the button on his intercom. “Becky, please show out guests in.”

The men walk in to his office and sit down on the chairs and couches. Then he surprised Williams when Dr. Brief gathered his papers and brought them over to the coffee table and laid them out. He sat next to him and across from Crowling.

“I’ve become so deeply involved in my daughter’s latest crusade, I haven’t been looking over my company,” Dr. Brief began. “I trusted my board of directors to handle things. I was wrong to do so. I’m sorry things went so poorly.”

He taps the papers on the table, “These are the internal documents I’ve been given on the protests at the factory, but because of my daughter’s latest accident, I was not able to completely read these before this meeting.

“My standing orders were to work with you about the reductions the retooling of that factory would cause. From what little I read, that did not happen. But I want to hear your side of things. Was that really the case?”

“After the layoffs were announced, all our attempts at contact failed,” Crowling said. He lowered his brows, “What was it that you were planning?”

“Buy outs for early retirement, free retraining for the new equipment, promotions into management if people were interested in relocating to the three new plants under construction deeper in the country. Our charities are also understaffed and given the opportunity I’d rather hire in house than working with outside contractors. I was certain we could get a least a hundred takers right away, and then work our way up to between two and three hundred over the next year.”

“Even so, we are very proud of our small towns, and many of those options would pull our young away at an even greater rate,” Crowling said.

“I’m perfectly aware of that, and I’m sorry. But if we can get those three plants up and running plus the one already there, your towns are in perfect position for a transportation hub. But those plans depend on getting those three up and running. Which is why I wanted the local managers to work with you.”

“This is the first time any of us have heard of this,” Crowling said. “Why has this not been communicated by your subordinates?”

Dr. Brief sighed, “When I got my scholarship, my grandmother warned me that if three or more rich people smile at you, there’s a gun pointed at the back of your head that’s about to have the trigger pulled. There has been some unfortunate politicking both inside and outside the company and it will take time to gain control of the reins again. I cannot openly help you until then. But don’t worry,” he chuckled, “My family isn’t going to allow the world to end on our watch.”

“Rather apocalyptic of you,” Williams said surprised and somewhat taken aback by his change of tenor. It was like he was laughing at his own joke.

Then Boyle chuckled too. “Tá gach rud go díreach mar an gcéanna?” (Everything is exactly the same?)

“Ní hé sin é go díreach ach níl sé i bhfad uaidh!” (Not exactly but close enough!)

Then they both laughed.

Thatcher poked Williams with his elbow. “Let the old boys have their lil’ bit of Gaelic,” he whispered.

“Old? I’m the same age as you!” Boyle kicked him.

Dr. Brief waved them off, “And I got 18 years on the both you eejits.”

“Save it for the pub,” Crowling ordered. “And no teetotaler jokes. This is a serious meeting.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Brief said apologetically. “I know these companies teaming up to blackmail you into concessions by threatening to close all the factories in the sector is unforgivable. And I’m sorry the mistake of the firing of these 300 people made you doubt my commitment to the parish.” He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and drooping his hands. “Buying the old factory was never about profit for me, I just want to make Colcannon and the Barmbracks alive again like when the railroads ran through the valley when my grandmother was young.”

He raised his right hand and placed his index and thumb together. “But that’s the issue I’m having with the board and the stockholders. All they care about is the share price and dividends,” he lowered his hand again and interwove his fingers, “and between this and my daughter’s passion projects, profits are not as high as they could be. Foxes got into my henhouse when I wasn’t looking and I need to shoot them dead before I do anything else.”     

 Then he sat up perfectly straight and placed his hands on his knees. “But I have made ‘bonuses’ available to employees working in that administration district if they request it. What they do with the extra money I have absolutely no control over. The second pay cycle is about to finish, and I don’t know if it’s pride or something else, but I’ve only had a few takers,” Dr. Brief said with overwhelming innuendo.

Williams wanted to facepalm.

“Well,” Kuznetsov said glancing at the other men, “I say this meeting has come to an impasse and we should walk out and return to our members and tell them how horribly this went.” There was sarcasm in his voice.

“Second,” Thatcher raised his hand.

“Third,” Wagner said.

“Ok. This is the reason the national leadership brought me in, “Crowling said angrily. “Your dealings with Capsule Corp. are unprofessional. He is a global conglomerate leader who just cut three hundred jobs and replaced them with robots. No different than all the other factory owners. Being a hometown boy has no bearing on this issue. And he has admitted he does not even have full control of his own company. This is a temporary and short-sighted solution. Yes, this is a failure. A total failure. Not some masked conspiracy to pretend to be one while things are actually going well.”

“It’s called buying time, Crowling,” Boyle stood up. “A fighting retreat while a splinter group feints in an attempt to outflank the enemy.” He walked over to Crowling who stood up to meet him. “You weren’t here when the Red Ribbon Army swept through and they took over the factories. The others companies made deals and began supplying materials willingly. The Briefs never did.

“You weren’t here when we torched our own factory, escaped into the hills and began sniping the convoys with our hunting rifles. You weren’t here when they started executing people in the middle of town to get us to surrender. And you weren’t here when the fighters the Briefs organized liberated us! And Ms. Bulma was only a teenager, but she and her friends went in Wolverines style and managed to assassinate a bunch of fucking generals!”

Dr. Brief simply crossed his arms and nodded.

“Dr. Brief rebuilt the factory. Dr. Brief rebuilt the town. Dr. Brief built the memorial in the town square. And Dr. Brief paid for digging up the mass grave, identifying everyone, then giving them proper funerals. Do the robots suck balls? Yes, it does. Is Dr. Brief no better than any other corporate shitehawk? Fuck no!”  

There is an extended silence. Crowling and Boyle continue to stare at each other down, neither willing to back down, but it is obvious from Crowling’s face he is struggling for a comeback.

Williams was also in shock. The Briefs were the most famous pacifists on the planet. But secretly their daughter led a small army as a teenager against the people who almost conquered the planet and seemed to win a major victory.

_“But crusade,”_ he thought, _“He called her pet projects a crusade and it sounds like a major money sink. Is she funding a private army?”_

“So, what about the three hundred people who were fired?!” Crowling changed the subject, “They have no access to these bonuses! What are they supposed to do?! Pray to will the lottery?!”

Dr. Brief’s face lit up. “Brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that!” He reached for his cell phone and began to dial.

“What the hell are you doing now?” Crowling looked past Boyle and pointed at Dr. Brief with his hand.

“I’m going to ask what the winning numbers are going to be,” he said putting the phone to his ear.

“How?! Are you trying to fix the numbers?! There are witnesses to this!” Crowling shouted.

Dr. Brief ignored him. “Hello, Usher. It’s Dr. Brief. Is Fortuneteller Baba free at the moment?”

“You’re jeopardizing the fates of three hundred people by relying on a fortune teller?” Williams said startled. “You’re a man of science.”

Dr. Brief continued to ignore them. “Oh, well is there a chance you could forward some questions to her between clients? … Yes, I know of the 5 million zeni surcharge…”

“Five…Mil…?” Everyone whispered in shock.

“Ok, I want to know if anyone will be winning the four highest multimillion lotteries at the drawing in three days… Yes, the 632, 478, 304 and 289 million zeni ones. … Oh, you have a 90% down payment policy for lottery numbers? Yes, I can afford the 1.5 billion. Alright, you can have the financial department call me back at this number to work out the money transfer. Yes, thank you. I will talk to you soon. Good bye.”

Dr. Brief hung up and put his phone away.

“You’re wasting over a billion zeni on a fortune teller? That’s over the top even for you,” Wagner said.

“If you’re worried about credibility, Baba is used heavily by the Special Forces. I think that’s a perfectly good reference if my family’s is not enough for you. She’s a money-grubbing old crone, but she’s got the skills worth the extortion. I’ll give you the numbers as soon as I get them and we can talk about how to split them up between the company pools. Don’t think of this as me wasting money, but just as another way of getting my money to you.” 

“Won’t the authorities get suspicious about all four prizes being won by one location?” Williams asks.

“I’m sure Baba will enjoy the publicity. And she’s always survived investigations into her business. I’m not worried.”

Crowling pinch the bridge of his nose, “Let’s just end this meeting.”

“All right then,” Dr. Brief stood up, took a step to the side and extended his hand. “I look forward to talking with you soon, Mr. Crowling. And welcome to the district.”

            Crowling took his hand. Dr. Brief could feel the disgust in his shake. He let go. “All right, everyone gather your things and leave this room,” Crowling ordered.

The others shook Dr. Brief’s hand quickly one by one before they exited with Boyle and Dr. Brief exchanging some quick Gaelic.

Williams shook his hand, but paused before finishing it.

“Is there something you want to ask, young man?” Dr. Brief asked.

“N… No, sir, Dr. Brief. I’m fine.”

Dr. Brief smiled. “Maybe you should talk with Shaun. Known him since he broke into my hotel room as a lad.”

“Shaun. You mean Mr. Boyle?”

Dr. Brief put his hand on the young man’s shoulders and began guiding him to the door, “Yep. Said he just wanted to get a good look at the devil’s spawn the old women were jabbering about.”

Williams stops at the door. “You? Devil’s spawn, sir?”

“My grandparents left a shadow darker than the shadows of the Barmbracks in winter that I had to crawl out of before I gained any good karma there. Mountain folk tend to have long memories like that, but that’s for Shaun to talk your ear off about.”

“Williams! You coming?”

“Better not keep Mr. Crowling waiting,” Dr. Brief said gently pushing him out the door.

Dr. Brief shut the door, then leaned against it. He slowly slid down until he hit the floor with a small thud. _“Crowling… That man is going to be trouble. And here I thought I could safely use Colcannon to free up the experimental department from manufacturing all Bulma’s alien-related projects. Tom seems a nice lad, rather naïve on the local history, but he is a national lobbyist. Needs to learn to squeeze is big ideas into the narrow valleys if he’s going to be of any use in this mess.”_

~~***~~

Williams heard the door shut behind him. He saw Mr. Boyle leaning on the desk talking with the secretary. Not dignified by any means, but he was not surprised at this point.

“Boyle!”

“I’ll stop talking to my niece when I’m good and ready!

“You should probably get going, Uncle. Mr. Crowling is starting to make a scene.”

“Oh? Bucking Becky tossing this old man out, huh?”

Becky blushed. “That word has a completely different meaning in the city!” she said as quietly as she could.

Boyle chuckled, “Slán leat, Sweetie.” (Goodbye)

“Tabhair aire, uncle.” (Take care)

Boyle turned from the desk and began to walk away.

“Mr. Boyle, sir,” Williams jogged up to him.

“Yes, Mr. Williams?”

“Dr. Brief… he said to speak to you about the truth of the local situation. Nothing today was in the information we were given when the national committee sent us here. If we are going to be able to predict and work to improve this situation, we need to understand what is actually going on on the ground.”

“That’s the royal we I assume?” Boyle smiled and motioned for them to start walking. “Ok young man, where do you want to begin?”

“These grandparents. His biography makes no mention of Colcannon or anywhere remotely close to here. I didn’t know about this until Mr. Crowling said it.”

“Yeah, he was surprised too. Both of you got thrown into the deep end and can’t seem to tread water. Let’s see here, it was the biggest scandal to ever hit county a little over 150 years ago.

“The Barmbracks were blessed with the most beautiful girl ever born to the mountains, Mháire MacDonald. Fiery red locks, deep green eyes, and a fairy laugh, her parents knew God had blessed them with an angel of fortune. They kept her away from the sun and put her nose in books to raise her up above her station. And it worked.

“Several important men in the county took interest in her, and right after her 16th the county’s only doctor married her and she took the respectable name of Mary. He was more than twice her age, but that was normal back then. He was the wealthiest of her many suitors. He had the second largest house in Colcannon, after the factory owners, and even had a maid. He paid for her parents to have a good house as well down on Washington Street. Still there. It’s the bed and breakfast now.

“But that maid was her moral ruin. The doctor traveled a great deal, and often left her alone for weeks on end. But that maid’s brother was a boxer. County champion. So, when a railroad boy rode into town and knocked him out, it made the papers: The man who was destined by God himself to fight and that He sent the angels to command his parents to name him Boxer. Mary talked the maid into taking her to see the fights. And that’s when she met the man who would condemn her soul, Boxer Brief. And then one day she kissed her husband goodbye, dropped her newborn son at her parents, then was never seen in town again.

“The maid was arrested for murder about a week after she disappeared. But she claimed Mary had run off Boxer. When it hit the papers, people said the two were seen a few towns down the line the same day, but no one saw them after that.

“The maid and her brother hung themselves in prison after being charged with aiding her kidnapping. Her parents were turned out into the streets and shunned. They were found froze to death after the spring thaw. And the baby just disappeared and was never spoke of again. But there is a story a man who looked like the doctor died in the big mining accident the county over 17 years later, but after the newspaper that reported it was burnt down by a mob the next day, nothing came of it.

“Now, you can see the scandal when a man claiming to be the grandson of Boxer and Mháire Brief comes back to the valley and becomes master of the company store, I hope. That old song is no joke.”

“They burnt down a newspaper?”

He shrugged, “It was how things were handled back then… But anyway, after all the gossip of the women about the end of days, my friends and I decided we wanted to see the devil for ourselves. And that is not a metaphor. So, at night we climbed up to take turns peaking in the second-floor windows of their hotel room. But the night watch spooked them and they ran off leaving me dangling from the window sill. The noise woke the baby and when the Mrs. got up to care for her she saw me struggling at the window and they pulled me in. And the first thing they ever said to me was if I wanted some tea. The next morning when I told my friends what happened and how nice they were, they thought I had my soul sucked out of me and went screaming down the street thinking I was a zombie or something.” He chuckled, “I know that sounds ridiculous for a city boy, but it’s what people believed.”

_“This must be why they are so comfortable with trusting fortunetellers. Even Dr. Brief. He is almost 80. I hope this faith is rewarded.”_

“And the battle with the Red Ribbon Army?”

Boyle put his arm over his shoulder and pulled him close. “Have you ever heard of Son Goku? The boy who killed King Piccolo.”

“I didn’t know his name, but everyone knows of him.”

“He’s Ms. Bulma’s fist,” he whispers, “They did it. They did everything. They killed all of them.” He smiles wide and shakes him excitedly, “They butchered the generals of the East, found out where the main headquarters was, then cut off the head of the snake.”

“A bunch of teenagers destroyed the most powerful army in the world?”

“Yep.”

Williams was already too shocked to feel any more surprise at how casually Boyle said this, without any hint of the momentous revelation he just revealed.

Boyle lowered his arm from Williams’ shoulders. “Now Colcannon had been made an example of by the army. But the town really blossomed afterwards under the Briefs. They modernized the town so much the other owners had to begin investing in their factory towns to keep themselves from going out of business. And I don’t mean fancy things like the interwebs. We had people come from all over to tour our new sewage treatment plant. Everything went into pits or straight into the creek before then. Actually, that’s when the bed and breakfast started up to house the tourists now that I think about it. You may think we’re a small town, but we’re over a third of county now.”

“I saw in the information I was given that Colcannon is depopulating the slowest while the other towns have dropped significantly. Seems Capsule Corp. is the life support for the region,” Williams said as they reached the others waiting at the doors to the foyer.

Williams suddenly stops walking. _“Capsule Corp. is the life support of the region. The threats to close the other factories mean nothing because the doctor is building three more factories. He’s forced them to pay tons of money by simply by upping the standard of living there. Everyone’s so calm because they believe he will save them again._

_‘Foxes got into my henhouse…’_

_“They need to remove Dr. Brief.”_ Williams turned to walk back.

“Williams? Where are you going?” Crowling ordered.

“Don’t wait up! I’ll grab a taxi and meet you in a few.” Williams jogged off.

~~***~~

Dr. Brief sits at a conference table with a projection on the screen. Six faces of old white men were displayed, three on top of the others.

“We were surprised you contacted us so quickly after your secretary said 3 p.m.” said the first man. “Normally negotiations last a couple hours.”

“It devolved into a screaming match rather quickly, so I had them removed.” Dr. Brief chuckled, “The leadership seems wholly unprepared for the onslaught you gentlemen have delivered. Congratulations. You couldn’t have done this better than if you hired the Pinkertons.”

“You flatter us, Dr. Brief,” said the second man, “Then no agreement was reached with the union?”

“No, as I said, it devolved quickly.”

“You have always worked quite well with unions, Dr. Brief,” the fifth man said, “What went wrong this time?”

“I believe they came in looking for a fight, and I did not give them the response they wanted.”

“They as in the national transplants. You are a god in the Barmbracks. They worship you,” the fourth man said. “But as they say, ‘A man without spirit is whipped. But one ounce of faith, they'll be dug in deeper than tick on a hound.’ But unfortunately for them, if you get put on the cross, you’re not coming back.”

~~***~~

“Ms. Reed,” Williams came jogging up to the desk.

“Mr. Williams, what’s wrong?”

“Is Dr. Brief available to talk to? It’s urgent.”

“He’s currently on a video call. It will be a while.”

Williams puts his hands on the desk, “With the other factory owners?”

“I… I can’t say. Is something wrong?”

Williams’ arms drop to his side. “I’m too late…” he sighed.

~~***~~

“You’re going to close that factory, then completely withdraw from the mountains,” the first man said, “Not one grain of wheat, not one scholarship, not a single zeni, in fact if those private schools you built could have an electrical fire and destroy all the text books and computers you donated so they can’t be reused by the public schools that would be ideal. But all good things come in time. No sense to be too greedy at this moment.”

Dr. Brief stood up and slammed his hands on the table, “Never! Why the hell would I ever agree to that?!”

“Because you have no choice,” the fifth man said. “Or we will report you to the Committee of Unhuman Activities.”

Dr. Brief’s heart stopped for a moment. “What proof do you have?”

They all chuckled.

“Proof?” the second man said, “We don’t need proof for a committee that is gunning down fat men in their mother’s basements over alien conspiracy websites.

“But six reputable companies reporting suspicions of the greatest scientist since Hawking and inventor since Jobs is working with aliens? Even if they make an exception to the law about shutting down and seizing all of a suspected company’s assets to stop the global economy from collapsing, anything more complicated than 2+2=4 for the ‘military intelligence’,” he used air quotes, “is going to take years to sort out. Especially if the stories of your experimental department are to be believed. Now, what could you be possibly making that involves so many fires and even an explosion?” he slowly shook his head and said the last sentence like scolding a child.

“You don’t know a damn thing!”

“We don’t need to know anything, like we said before,” the first man said, “But we are all owned by the same hedge funds, and unlike you who guaranteed your company would never survive in your family to a third generation, we’ve actually raised our daughters to be suitable wives to rich men. Your youngest is especially disgraceful in the tabloids. As willful as she is, I wonder what will happen when old General Cumberland comes smashing down the doors to her labs?” 

The men laughed then smiled.

_“If three rich men smile at you…”_ Dr. Brief thought.

“Chaill tú géilleadh dúinn,” the sixth man said. (You have lost. Surrender to us.)

“You ran that through an auto-translate, didn’t you?!”

“But it was close enough, judging by your shaking.”

“Now, now. There’s no need to go that far,” the third man said patronizingly, “I’m sure the board will vote him out of the company within the hour.” He then tilted his head, “Although, doesn’t your family live in a company-owned mansion? Your family would be bared from the premises in that case.” He then tilts his head the other way, “But then again, the committee will freeze all your assets including your private bank accounts and credit cards, so you won’t be able to pay for a hotel or anything.” He straightens his head and claps his hands together, “But I’m sure a man as magnanimous as General Cumberland would at least allow your family to exit with the clothes on their backs. After all he did earn his nickname “The Butcher” for his compassion for families and civilians back during the war with the Red Ribbon Army.”

They all chuckle again.

“You have until 5 p.m. in your time zone. If we do not see this as the lead story on the global news or as an interrupting breaking news report before then, we will immediately report you,” The fourth man said with victory smiling all over his face. He then held up a remote in view of the camera and pushed a button. His picture changed to black with the warning No Signal on it.

All the other pictures followed suit within a few seconds.

Dr. Brief fell back in his chair violently shaking, his vision blanched white briefly with God knows what emotion or mix thereof.

Hey had him. They had him dead to rights and had no idea how. He looked down at his right hand and placed his left thumb into the palm. The thought of the handshake with Vegeta.

_“No. Don’t think like that. Goku is one of them too. We’d still be in this situation even if Bulma never brought him home.”_

Dr. Brief leaned forward and grabbed his hair in his fists. _“Calm down. You’re no good to anyone like this.”_

After several minutes the sounds of his pulse left his ears and his breathing slowed. But his heart was aching and he was light headed. He took another deep breath but it wouldn’t come.

His chest… What, what is wrong with his chest?

The last thing he remembered was pushing the button on his medical alert necklace before hitting the ground. 

~~***~~

 

Six old men sat at their large, antique hardwood desks looking at their computer screens.

“A heart attack you say?”

“Yes, it’s all over the West City news. Critical but stable condition.”

One laughs, “He must have dropped death right after the conference call.”

“We are still holding him to the time table, correct?”

“I don’t see why not. Why do you ask?”

“Chairman Belfort contacted me though our mutual daughters-in-laws. Members are worried about the optics of this moment and are wavering. The Briefs have too much public sympathy and reporting now will only damage the board.”

“And what do you believe?”

He smiled, “I say we skip the time table and report him now. The fact he had a heart attack immediately after we confronted him will be seen as proof of guilt by Cumberland and accelerate the process.”

The men chuckle.


End file.
